I'll Be There to Comfort You
by magicalnamjoon
Summary: Italy comforts Germany when the tougher nation gets injured. GerIta.


_This is for Tumblr user_ _bewitched-pancakes_ _, who requested Germany getting hurt to the point of crying and Italy trying to comfort and help him. Enjoy!_

"That BASTARD enemy," cursed Feliciano while waiting for Ludwig in the German army's medical tent. He had been waiting on edge for half an hour after he was informed his German was shot at the African front of the war by one of Arthur's soldiers about two hours prior, before the fighting had come to a stop for the day. Ludwig was somewhere inside the tent being treated for a moderate wound from a bullet that nearly went through his radius. Although thankful that he didn't die, the Italian was very concerned for Ludwig's health and could not wait to be able to see him.

After knowing the nation for some time now, the brunet had gingerly accepted that he had developed feelings for Ludwig in spite of much internal denial. Though he hated the war. he couldn't get enough of fighting alongside Ludwig. Not only did the tall blond's muscular physique make him weak in the knees, but he was even more beautiful on the inside as he was on the exterior. The poetry with which he would describe his dedication to improving himself by maintaining order in his personal life was endlessly fascinating to the happy-go-lucky Italian. They learned a lot from each other, Feliciano becoming more organized and prioritizing his responsibilities better so he could maximize his time while Ludwig came to appreciate the simple pleasures in life more frequently and learned how to smile when he meant it. They helped balance each other out, making each other better people. It was the sole joy he had in the midst of the violence and death of the war, one which he hoped would carry on after the conflict was over. He wanted to stay close to Ludwig forever. It was difficult for him to express this happiness the German brought him, not knowing where he crossed the line when showing the other nation how much he deeply cared. A known womanizer, he badly wished he was in love with another woman so he could forget about his disgusting (recurring?) feelings that would surely make him shunned and isolated in his Catholic society. But his love for Ludwig was anything but disgusting. He was dear to him. There was no denying the resemblance that the German had to his first love from childhood, and Feliciano decided that unlike that long-lost boy he refused to lose such a special person this time.

Suddenly, a nurse came out from the crowd of doctors and soldiers being treated with Ludwig, whose arm was bandaged. A smile came from him at the sight of the blond, though his stomach became tense and ill-at-ease again when he saw the gravity of the lesion. The nurse turned to the tall man and gave him stern instructions. When she finished, she left the German to his visitor.

"Germany, Germany! Oh, I'm so glad to see you! I was extremely worried that you were killed. How are you feeling?"

Ludwig gently formed his lips into a smile. "I'm all right, Italy. One of the English soldiers took advantage of me when I tried to save a new soldier from making himself vulnerable, is all. Thankfully we're both still alive." His face stayed tense, forced into a calm expression.

"I can't imagine what that must have been like. Thank God you'll recover. Do you have to stay for more treatment?" asked Feliciano.

"No, my wounds will heal soon enough. I am free to go but cannot fight on the battlefield until my arm is better. Thankfully it won't interfere with my commanding duties."

"I'm glad to hear you can get out of here. Let's go back to our tent!"

On the trip back to where they slept in the African front, the injured serviceman was exceptionally quiet. His bandaged arm stayed stiff, jerking back into a vertical position whenever it moved too much. When he was sure no one was around to see, Feliciano slipped his hand into the German's, who squeezed back in response. The Italian grew concerned when he realized that Ludwig wasn't trying to sugarcoat the horrors he faced on the warfront like he usually did.

When they arrived to their tent, Ludwig tried peeling off his shirt with one arm, carefully putting his wounded limb through the neck hole. Feliciano came to him and gently pulled it off for him. The German sat on his cot with his back slumped against the wall, closing his crystal blue eyes and scrunching his face. The smaller man slowly approached him, then sat on the floor at his feet. After a brief silence, Ludwig began to heave as tears streamed down his cheeks. He, the bulky nation known to push himself and his soldiers to the limit, was crying. Hard.

"Oh my God, Ludwig," said Feliciano gently. He got up, took his own pillow and used it to prop up his German's hurt arm, remembering how he learned in high school biology that circulation runs better when the limb in question is elevated (though he was unsure as to what relevance that had to bullet wounds). Though he was not a nurse, he would do anything to ease that pained expression on his beloved's face. He then sat at the foot of the cot, conscious of his weight and the risk it posed of overloading the military-grade bed. He looked into Ludwig's eyes that resembled the sky and stroked his luscious, maize hair in hopes that it would alleviate the hurt somehow.

The taller man fought back tears while smiling at this gesture. "I'm sorry you have to see me like this, but- I'm in so much pain, Feli," he choked out before tears streamed down his face as he cried again.

The Italian slowly lowered himself on the cot until he was lying on Ludwig's muscular chest, on the arm that hadn't been shot. He hugged his mate and tenderly grabbed the blond's face, turning it to face him. He kissed the German's cheek and then looked him straight in the eyes.

"You mean the _world_ to me, Ludwig. Don't you _ever_ feel like you can't… be yourself… in order for me to like you. I want to be there for you through the good times and bad, while we're in this Hell or otherwise. I just wish I could help you not be in so much pain somehow..."

Ludwig wrapped his good arm around Feliciano. "With you here, I feel better already."

Feliciano blushed as he snuggled into the crook of the other nation's neck, feeling his chest go from shaking to slowly adopting a regular pattern of rising and falling. "I'll change your bandages for you whenever you need it. Ask me whenever you need to get something or do something that would hurt your arm, and I'll take care of it for you, okay?"

The blond slowly nestled his head on top of Feliciano with a smile. "Thank you. I will. I've never- felt? No, _been_ so cared for before. After so many years of dealing with insufferable assholes, I'm glad to know that I have someone special looking out for me." Ludwig gave the other nation a smile, who returned one even bigger.


End file.
